There's Nothing I Wouldn't Do For You
by LoveIsAllYouNeed96
Summary: A series of stories exploring the lives of Sam and Dean through the years if Sam was the older brother and Dean was the younger. Lots of Hurt/Comfort & Fluff. Feel free to submit a prompt inside.
1. A Tale of Two Winchesters

**Author's Note:** So this is a new series that will revolve around Sam being the older brother and Dean being the younger. It will be open for you, the readers, to suggest and request prompts that you would like to see happen. Either message me your prompts of leave them in the review section. Your prompts must not feature slash.

For example, your prompt could: be something based around Mary being alive, focus on a canon event from any of the seasons re-written with Sam as the older brother, etc.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I look forward to hearing from you.

* * *

Title comes from the book **A Tale of Two Cities**

* * *

_Prompt: A hunt goes wrong and Dean gets hurt meaning that Sam has to take him to hospital. When John arrives, Sam is soon on the receiving end of John's anger. Lots of fluff._

Sam is **17** in this story and Dean is **13**

* * *

Gripping the steering wheel so tight that his hands were white, Sam kept glancing back at his brother in the backseat every five seconds, checking that he was still breathing. The darkness that had quickly set in was making it harder for Sam to keep an eye on his brother as his black jacket that he had used to try and staunch his brother's bleeding stomach was making him blend in with the Impala's black upholstery.

"Dean..." he called.

No answer.

He glanced back once again to find his little brother's eyes closed.

"De...Come on De, open those eyes for me..."

A groan could be heard as Dean's eyes slowly flickered awake. "It's Dean..." Dean groaned in a weak tone.

Sam smiled slightly at the fact that even when his little brother was barely holding onto consciousness, his first point of concern was still the correction of his older brother's nickname for him. "You need to stay awake, we're nearly at the hospital."

"What about Dad?" Dean asked.

"What about him?" Sam replied.

"He won't want us going to a hospital."

"Dad can go fuck himself, because you need a hospital right now." Sam looked at his little brother's worried expression. "It's okay, you know?" He began softly. "Dad's not angry at you, he's angry at me."

"But he's angry at you because of me." Dean stated in a saddened tons.

"Hey..." Sam reached a hand back and rubbed his brother's knee in reassurance. "I don't mind dealing with Dad...you don't need to worry about him."

"But he's really mad." Dean replied.

"So am I!" Sam stated. "He practically just used you as bait!"

"But I screwed up."

Sam could feel himself getting angrier as he gripped the steering wheel even harder. "You didn't screw up, he did..." Sam reassured. "...you're thirteen for christ sake! The man is supposed to be taking care of you and then he just goes and sends you into that fight blind with no chance to defend yourself!"

Dean's eyes traveled to his older brother's shoulder and side.

Sam instantly knew what he was concerned about.

His side and shoulder had been slashed when he had ran in and thrown himself in front of Dean to act as a barrier between the creature and his little brother. His side was still bleeding because he had neglected the wound as he dealt with his little brother's injuries.

"You're hurt..." Dean stated in a tone that showed his concern.

"It's not as bad as it looks." Sam answered to reassure his little brother. "Doesn't even hurt." He lied. His side was starting to hurt from sitting upright in the seat, and his shoulder was feeling the strain of having to drive.

The hospital came into view just as Sam watched his little brother lose consciousness. Speeding into the parking lot, Sam pulled the Impala up outside the entrance before rushing out and flinging open the back door as he grabbed his jacket and threw it on to hide his injuries before scooping his little brother up carefully and entering the hospital.

"Help!" Sam shouted. "My brother needs help!"

He was met by a flurry of nurses. One of them wheeled over a gurney and took Dean from his arms as they wheeled him off down the corridor.

Sam tried to follow but was held back by one of the nurses.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but you can't accompany your brother any further. There is a waiting room down the hall."

* * *

It felt like he had been waiting forever when the door opened and their father walked in. His expression showed his anger as he walked across the room over to his eldest.

"Sam."

"So you finally decided to show up?" Sam stated.

"Don't use that tone with me, Sam." John replied in a stern tone.

"Why? What are you going to do?...Hit me? Or throw me to the dogs like you did with Dean?!"

John grabbed his eldest by the collar, pulling him up from his seat.

Sam scoffed. "I'm not scared of you anymore."

John's temper built up before he finally snapped, Sam on the receiving end as he landed a punch across his eldest's face causing him to fall backwards and hit the wall.

Sam regained his balance, putting a hand to his now bloody mouth. "You can hit me all you want, but it won't change anything."

"Maybe if you'd been looking after your brother better, he would have gotten hurt." John accused."

"You put Dean in here! You! And you won't even fucking admit it!" Sam shouted.

At that moment, the eldest Winchester brother was cut off by a nurse walking into the waiting room.

"Family of Dean Smith?" She asked.

"Yes, I'm his father."

"If you would like to follow us, you can see your son now."

They followed the woman to the room where Dean was lying in the bed.

Dean smiled as he noticed them, although it was obvious that he was worried about what their father was going to say.

John walked inside.

Sam stopped and turned to the nurse. "So he's going to be alright? No lasting damage?"

The nurse smiled sadly at the young man stood in front of her. Their situation obvious. The young man was clearly heavily responsible for the younger and by the look of his now bloody lip, had obviously been blamed for the youngest being in hospital. Even now, the young man was asking the questions that needed to be asked, unlike his father. "No lasting damage."

"Thank you." The young man smiled before walking into the room.

The nurse followed.

"Sam." Dean smiled.

"Hey De." Sam smiled back at his little brother, glad that he was okay.

Then Dean noticed his older brother wavering slightly on his feet, and he immediately knew why. "Sam? Have you been checked out?"

The nurse furrowed an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

"No." Sam shook his head quickly.

"Yes." Dean answered. "His side and shoulder are hurt."

Sam sighed.

"Take off your jacket." John ordered.

Sam was reluctant to.

"Sam..."

Removing the jacket slowly revealed his bloody side and shoulder.

The nurse suppressed a gasp. "Sir, you need to be treated."

"I'm not leaving my brother."

"Sir..."

"I'm not leaving him." Sam asserted.

"Okay...then at least sit down for me so I can check for infection and stitch you up." She motioned to the leather chair.

"I don't know why you're making such a fuss about this Sam? Wasting the nurses' time by not telling her in the first place." John questioned.

"He's not wasting my time, he was just obviously worried about his little brother. But you should have alerted us to the fact that you were hurt too and then we could have treated you along with your brother instead of giving the wound a chance to become infected." The nurse had collected the items she needed and was now stood beside the eldest Winchester brother. She took in his side and shoulder. Dark red blood had spilled out previously from the wounds and was now dried on the shirt. There were numerous rips in the shirts material, along with a large tear by the shoulder. Checking the wound for infection, the nurse was glad to find that the wound wasn't infected, before she began to stitch the young man up. "Well, apart from a ruined t shirt, everything seems to be fine." She smiled, once she had finished. The nurse noticed that the young man appeared to be in pain. "Would you like something to help? I could get you some pain killers?"

"No, it's fine." Sam answered. "But thank you anyway, and thanks for stitching me up." Sam smiled. "Sorry for being a pain."

"It's okay." She smiled back. "Just next time, tell us."

He nodded.

The nurse walked out of the room.

Once she was gone, John turned to him. "How could you be so stupid?!" He shouted.

"Dad..." Sam really wasn't in the mood to argue, and couldn't take anymore rounds if his Dad wanted to take another swing.

"Do you realise how much damage you could have cause through your own stupidity?! If they had called the CPS on us, they would have taken you brother away."

"I wouldn't let them do that." Sam stated.

Dean looked over at his brother and saw the determination in his eyes. He knew his older brother would never let that happen. "Dad, it's alright..."

"No, it's not! Where were you when Dean was attacked?" John accused.

"Dad..." Dean spoke up again.

"Where were you when your brother needed you?"

"Dad!" Dean shouted.

John turned to look at this youngest.

"None of this is Sam's fault!" Dean stated.

Sam turned to his younger brother, surprised at the fact that he had actually spoken up against their father.

"He should have been covering you, but instead you ended up getting hurt."

"I'm alive because of Sam!" Dean shouted. "That thing slashed me up and Sam was the one who jumped between it and me." he explained. "He got hurt too, and then you made him drive!"

"Dean, leave it." Sam spoke up.

John shook his head before walking towards the door.

"Dad, where are you going?" Sam called after him.

"I'll be back at the motel." He walked out.

As the door closed, Sam walked over and dragged the leather chair over to his brother's bed before siting down in it. "Just ignore him, he'll calm down eventually."

Dean sighed before noticing his brother's lip. "What happened!"

Sam furrowed an eyebrow.

"Your lip!" Dean asked before realisation kicked in. "Was it Dad? Did he hit you?"

"Dean..." Sam sighed.

"He did, didn't he?"

Sam didn't answer.

"Does he hit you a lot?" Dean asked.

"No." Sam shook his head. "He was just mad, that's all. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"That's not an excuse." Dean stated.

"It's Dad, Dean. I probably deserved it." Sam replied.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Dean asked.

"Dean, just leave it...please..."

"Fine." Dean sighed. He knew exactly why Sam just took the hits. If Sam was the one taking them, then Dean wouldn't be on the receiving end. Sam would take all the verbal crap and all of the hits just so his little brother wouldn't have to. Sam saw it as his job to do this because of him being the older brother. Dean knew that Sam and their father's relationship had always been a bit strained, all the more in the past few years. They had been having more arguments than ever as Sam put across his point of how messed up their whole life was. Of course, Dad had just shook this off ignoring Sam's accusations of treating them like soldiers more than his sons. Dean never knew what to do when they argued. He was never in the middle during their arguments as he was usually just listening in on them, but from looking at Sam's lip, and drawing memories of previous bruises and cuts that he had seen on Sam's body through the years, this may not have been the first time that John had taken his anger out on Sam.

"You alright in there?" Sam asked, noticing that his little brother had zoned out into his own thoughts.

Dean turned to his brother and nodded. "Yeah, sorry." He tried to suppress a yawn, but his body betrayed him.

"It's okay." Sam smiled. "You should get some sleep, Dean...It's been a long day."

Dean didn't argue as he rested his head back against the soft, fluffy pillow and fell back to sleep in minutes.

Dean looked so innocent as he slept, causing Sam to smile sadly as he cast a hand through his little brother's soft, brown hair gently. After doing this, he took hold of Dean's hand and held it in his own to offer his little brother the comfort of knowing that he was still there, and wasn't leaving. He wished his little brother could have escaped the life. Sam was already screwed, the life of a hunter had been first forced upon him at the age of four after the night that their mother burnt on the ceiling of the house they once called home. But Dean, Dean could have a life. Dean could get out, go to school, have a family. Sam knew his little brother's attitudes towards education were rapidly changing as he began to neglect homework and skip classes, blaming it all on being 'too thick' to understand it. It was all bull though. Dean was smart. Very smart, he had just lost interest in the whole concept of education after their father had upped their training regimes and introduced Dean to new weapons and allowed him to come on tougher hunts. It was obvious that Dean did enjoy hunting, which Sam found worrying.

It had been a couple of months since he had submitted his entrance paper to Stanford, and he was still awaiting the letter back saying whether they wanted to take him or not. He knew his chances were low because the only way he would be able to study there would be that if they gave him a full ride because there was no way that their father would put any money towards it, and even then, they wouldn't have the money available to do so. Sam accepted that. He wanted to study law at Stanford, but not at the expense of his family. They came first. They always came first, and nothing would change that. Sam was mainly worried about leaving to attend Stanford and getting a phone call from a hospital telling him that there had been an accident. Because John had never been the most careful man when it came to hunting. How safe would Dean be with him if they went out hunting together? Dean was a good hunter, but he wasn't anywhere near the level that he would need to be to back their father up alone. That had always been Sam's job. The person behind their father's lead and in front of his little brother.

And Dean, how would he react if he told him that he was leaving? The two of them had always been close. Much closer than most siblings because of how they had grown up. Sam looking after his little brother for weeks on end in some motel their father had dumped them in while he went off on a hunt. Sam would usually get a break from being Dean's primary caregiver on the off chance that their father had left them at Uncle Bobby's, as Bobby would purposely allow time for Sam to be a kid himself. Have some fun, or just some time alone in he needed it. The time they spent at Uncle Bobby's would also be the time in which Sam got to eat as when their father would leave them in motel rooms, he would throw a few bills at Sam for food. This money never really went far, and their father would often return late from hunts meaning that Sam always had to be conservative when it came to the money, buying only enough as they needed. Sam would go hungry so that his brother wouldn't. So when they were dropped off at Uncle Bobby's, Bobby would always make it his mission to make sure that Sam would eat more before screaming at John for neglecting his kid when he came to collect them.

'He's a growing kid and he needs to eat. You can see his ribs through his t shirt he's that skinny!' Bobby would complain, which would usually lead to a vivid response from their father about how Bobby should stop telling him how to raise his own kids.

'You don't deserve those kids, John'. Bobby had replied the last time they had seen him, which was the reason why they hadn't been back since.

And then there was their father. What would his reaction be to the news of Sam getting into Stanford. He probably wouldn't let him go. He would get the whole 'you have a duty to this family' speech which he always used to guilt trip Sam into doing or not doing something, using Dean as the anchor for his argument which Sam always folded to. He knew that if he did get his acceptance letter, the whole conversation regarding it was not going to be pretty, and that was what he dreaded most. That and the puppy dog eyes that he knew Dean would deploy on him to try and make him re-consider his choice.

There was a quiet knock at the door as the nurse from earlier popped her head round the door. "Visiting times are over." She whispered before noticing that their father must have left as she took in the sight of the two young boys. The elder was as close in his seat as he could be to the bed in which his younger brother was lying on, hand holding the youngest's smaller hand, offering comfort. It nearly brought tears to her eyes as she witnessed just how much love the eldest had for the younger, and had shown throughout the time that they had been at the hospital tonight. She knew that she couldn't split them up. "I suppose we could make an exception, just for the one night."

Sam smiled at the woman's kindness. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, sweetie." She smiled back. "I'll go and get you a blanket."

"You don't need to do that..." Sam began.

"Don't be silly, it's no problem." The nurse cut him off, knowing that the elder clearly felt that he was causing a fuss when in fact he was doing just the opposite. It was clear to her that the eldest mustn't be used to being looked after himself. It was obvious that he was very good at looking after the younger, but there were also obvious signs that he was used to neglecting himself to provide or care for the younger. Earlier had been a clear indication of that when the elder had kept quiet and hidden behind his jacket, not alerting them to the fact that he had been injured too.

"Thanks." Sam nodded.

The nurse walked out of the room, returning a few minutes later to find the elder leaning against the bed, head resting against his little brother's arm, hand still holding the younger's as he slept. She smiled and walked over to the eldest, draping the blanket carefully over him, being careful not to disturb him. "Goodnight, boys." She stated on her way out of the door.

"Night, Mom." She swore she heard the eldest mumble as the door closed.


	2. Sam and Sensibility

Title comes from the book **Sense and Sensibility**

_Prompt: AU where Mary is alive but John is no longer living with them. Sam is thrown into a cell at the local sheriff station after getting into a fight at a bar. How will Mary react?_

Sam is **18** and Dean is **14** in this story

* * *

"Sam Winchester?" He heard the voice of the cop who had thrown him in the cell earlier say.

Looking up, Sam deflated at the sight. There was Mary stood beside the cop.

"Your Mom paid your bail so you're free to go. Don't let me catch you fighting again!" The cop stated as he unlocked the cell and walked in, unlocking the handcuffs that were around Sam's wrists.

Once they were off, Sam rubbed his wrists, looking at the abused flesh that was now visible. Slightly bloody and covered in cuts from where he had tried to get them off, the skin was dark red.

Mary had the same embarrassed look that she wore every time she had had to come in and talk to principal. Sam could hear her talking to the cop telling him about how she's always had problems with him but never his little brother. In truth, he had gotten into some fights in the past two years or so, but they had all taken place at school and all involved him beating up the dickheads that had been bullying his little brother. Their Mom had never gotten the full story about Dean being bullied because Dean was at the age where he found it embarrassing that he was still being bullied. Sam promised him that he wouldn't tell her, despite his little brother's concerns about him getting told off because of it. Sam didn't mind getting shouted at or lectured, not if it meant that his little brother felt safer at school because of him deterring the bullies.

Mary had already walked out of the police station, leaving Sam to collect his belongings from the front desk. Walking out, Sam made his way over to the Impala that was parked in one of the spaces in the parking lot before climbing in.

"I can't keep doing this, Sam..." Mary sighed after a few seconds of silence. "I won't."

"I'll pay you back." Sam stated.

"I don't care about the bail!" She shouted.

Sam was taken aback by Mary's anger.

Neither of them said another word on the drive home.

* * *

Dean was waiting for them in the living room when they walked into the house. His eyes immediately widening at the sight of his older brother.

Sam was covered in bruises, the most profound on his cheek which looked much more painful than the rest. He also had dried blood on his lip, knuckles and forehead from a small gash. There was also the state of his wrists from wearing the handcuffs all night.

Mary dumped her bag down on the couch, still not saying a word.

"Are you alright?" Dean whispered to his older brother so that she wouldn't hear.

Sam nodded.

"Liar." Dean responded, knowing that his brother must be in a considerable amount of pain. "What happened?" He spoke up, breaking the silence.

Mary turned around. "Your brother got into a fight...again! But this time, in a bar...Seriously, you're getting yourself into bar fights now!"

"I can explain everything." Sam stated. In truth, the guys who he had gotten into a fight with at the bar were making comments about his family. Sam had tried to control his temper, but they had persisted and the things they were saying became more and more vivid, leading to Sam snapping.

"I'm sure you can...but I need you to go, Sam." She paused. "I want you out of the house."

Dean's eyes widened.

Sam was speechless.

"I have had to do this so many times, and I refuse to have to deal with it anymore! You are eighteen years old, Sam, the quicker you start acting like it, the quicker you'll be able to get on with your life." She paused. "I know your Dad leaving was hard for you..."

Sam shook his head, not believing what he was hearing.

"...but I hoped at the time that you wouldn't be like him. That you wouldn't have his anger, but I was wrong."

"Don't you dare compare me with that bastard!" Sam shouted through gritted teeth, annoyed that she had compared him with the man that walked out on them 14 years ago. "I am nothing like him!"

"Mom..." Dean eventually spoke up, sensing that his older brother was getting angrier. He and Sam's close relationship through the years meant that he knew his brother well enough to know what would make him angry while also giving him the ability to understand how his brother was feeling. Because of this, Dean had always been good at calming him down.

"Dean, go upstairs...please..." Their Mom stated as she turned to him.

"You can't kick him out...please don't kick him out."

"Dean!" It was clear that she was losing her temper. "It's what's best."

"No it's not!" Dean shouted. "How is kicking Sam out going to help anyone?"

"I'm not having this conversation with you, Dean." Mary stated before turning back to Sam. "Get your stuff, I want you out."

"I'm not leaving Dean!" Sam stated.

"That's not your choice to make." Mary retorted.

"You can't stop me from seeing Sam!" Dean shouted.

"I can if I feel that's what's best."

"It's not!" Dean replied. "He's my brother!"

Mary ignored her youngest. "Out, now!"

Sam scoffed as he grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch and stormed upstairs to get his stuff.

* * *

Hearing a knock at the door, Bobby walked through into the hallway before opening it. There on the porch stood Sam.

"Sam?" Bobby asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Mom kicked me out." He answered quietly, clearly affected by the whole thing.

Bobby couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could Mary kick her eldest out? "You okay, boy?" He asked softly.

"No." He shook his head, clearly trying to hold back tears. "I don't have anywhere to go."

"My home is your home, boy. You know that." Bobby reminded him with a smile.

The eldest Winchester smiled slightly. "Thanks, Bobby."

"You're welcome, Sam." He stepped back from the door allowing him to walk in.

Bobby allowed the boy time to get inside before he began bombarding him with questions. "No offense, kid, but you look like you've gone twenty rounds, what happened?"

"Got into a fight." Sam answered simply.

"Care to be a little more specific?" Bobby asked.

"I got into a fight at a bar, lost, they then beat me up, the bar owner rang the cops, they arrested me, threw me into a holding cell, called Mom, she paid the bail, told me that she couldn't keep doing this, got home, got compared to my ass of a father, and then got kicked out."

"How you doing?" Bobby asked softly, noticing how wrecked the kid looked both physically and mentally.

"I'm fine."

Bobby wasn't stupid. "Sam..."

"Mom won't let me see Dean." Sam explained.

And that was what was bothering the eldest Winchester.

"Not at all?" Bobby asked.

Sam shook his head.

Bobby sighed. "I'm sure your Mom will come around." He paused. "Why don't you head upstairs and get yourself cleaned up while I put some soup on."

"Thanks, Bobby." Sam smiled. "I really do appreciate it."

Bobby smiled too. "I know."

Sam walked off upstairs.

Bobby walked through into the kitchen and picked up the phone. Dialling a number, he waited.

"Hello?"

"Mary." Bobby answered.

"Bobby? You haven't called in a while."

"Why did you kick your son out?" Bobby just came out with it. His tone wasn't aggressive or pushy, just protective over the kid that he had found on his doorstep.

"I couldn't take it anymore, Bobby. The fights...it's not a good example for Dean."

"Dean's not stupid, Mary, and by kicking Sam out, you've removed the only example Dean's really shaped himself around. Cause' he didn't have his Dad around to act as a father figure, he had Sam." Bobby paused. "That boy has done so much for you and for Dean over the years, and what thanks does he get?...And comparing him to John? That's pretty low, you must have known how the kid was gonna' react when you threw that one at him."

"What was I supposed to do?" Mary asked.

"Maybe not kick your son out?!" Bobby suggested.

"He's had a billion chances already, Bobby, he needs to learn...he's eighteen for god sake!"

"Sam's Dad walked out on him when he was four, and now you've just kicked him out...What Sam needed was stability in the fact that he had one parent that cared." Bobby paused. "And just out of curiosity, how's Dean taking this?"

"He's locked himself in his room and is refusing to come out." Mary answered.

"Sam needs stability, so he can stay here with me. Dean's welcome to come and visit whenever he wants. I know you might think that keeping those boys apart is the best thing for them, but you're wrong, and the sooner you see that the better." Bobby hung up, angrily slamming the phone down on the table. He turned to see Sam stood in the doorway with a saddened expression. "You could give a guy a heart attack sneaking up on him like that, boy."

"Sorry, Bobby." Sam apologised.

"It's okay, kid." Bobby smiled.

"Was that Mom?" He asked.

Bobby nodded.

"So she still won't let me see Dean?" Sam asked.

"I'm sorry." Bobby said as he shook his head.

"It's not your fault." Sam stated.

"It's not yours either."

"I'm sure Mom would have something to say about that." Sam sighed. "Hey, Bobby...is it okay if I just head up to bed?"

"Do you not want something to eat first?" Bobby asked.

"I'm not really hungry." He answered.

"Okay, then I'll see you in the morning then." Bobby smiled.

"Night, Bobby." Sam smiled sadly before walking off upstairs.

* * *

The weeks passed, and Mary had kept to her word of not allowing Sam to see Dean despite the many attempts that the eldest Winchester made to try and see him.

Sat at one of the seats at the old wooden table in the kitchen, Bobby watched as Sam walked down the stairs and defeatedly dumped himself down onto the seat opposite, placing one arm down on the table before resting his head on it.

Bobby knew why the kid was so tired. Sam had spent the day yesterday travelling to his Mom's house to try and see Dean. It must have been something like the 100th time he'd tried to see the kid, but Sam wasn't giving up. Bobby would often come down to find Sam crashed out on the couch or asleep at the kitchen table, but this morning was different. Although Sam did look deprived of sleep, Bobby noticed tears that were silently trickling down his cheeks before being soaked up by the material of his hoodie.

"Sam..." He spoke up in a soft, caring tone.

The eldest Winchester didn't respond.

Bobby hated seeing the kid upset. He'd had to watch Sam go through day after day of being separated from his brother, and witness the effect that being apart from his little brother was having on Sam. "Sam..." He tried again. "...talk to me, kiddo..." Being apart from his brother was slowly but surely killing Sam, and he seemed to be the only one that realise that.

"I just want to see my little brother..." Sam's weak, tearful tone spoke in an almost whisper.

And with those words, Bobby could feel his heart breaking.

Sam sniffled as he wiped his eyes with the cuff of his hoodie before getting up from the table and walking off.

Bobby stood up and walked across the kitchen. Picking up the phone, he dialled the number. "Mary...we need to talk." Bobby stated.

* * *

Lying in his bed, Sam was reluctant to get up. The time on the clock read '9:47', but he couldn't persuade his body to drag itself out of bed. Pulling the covers over his head, he tried to block out the light that was blaring in through the peach coloured blinds that were hung precariously from a black pole on the wall.

It was then that he heard the sound of a car door opening and closing.

And then a second.

Sam furrowed an eyebrow, pulling the covers off from over his head. Clambering sleepily so that he was leaning against the white wooden windowsill, he looked down at the salvage yard below, seeking out Bobby's car through the stacks of junk ones. Something caught his eye.

Someone.

Sam's eyes widened as he nearly fell out of bed as his lanky frame became tangled up in the covers that he was quickly trying to free himself from. Finally getting out of bed, he sprinted out of the room and down the corridor, not caring that he was still dressed in his pyjamas before taking each step of the old, creaky wooden stairs two at a time. Stood in the hallway, the door opened just as he reached it.

Bobby walked in first followed by...Dean.

A beaming smile appeared on Sam's face before he closed the gap between him and his little brother, engulfing him in a tight embrace as he wrapped his arms around him protectively as if to never let him go again. Tears also began to stream down his cheeks as he rested his head on top of his little brother's.

Dean was equally emotional as he accepted the embrace, burying himself against his older brother's chest as he cried too. "Sam..."

"It's okay..." Sam began to reassure, stroking a hand through his little brother's soft brown hair in comfort. "It's okay...I'm here..."

Tears could be seen in the old coot's eyes too as he witnessed the reunion of the two brothers.

Sam turned to him and smiled the most grateful smile. "Thank you." He mouthed.

"You're welcome." Bobby replied.


	3. Little Winchester

Title comes from the book **Little Woman**

_Prompt: Dean has asthma and it's always been Sam's job to look after his little brother when it gets the best of him. Sick!Asthma!Dean. Protective!Sam_

Sam is **17** and Dean is **13** in this story.

* * *

Sam awoke to the sound of his little brother's discomfort. Immediately becoming aware of Dean's wheezing, he threw back the covers and rushed over to his brother's bed.

Dean was halfway between propping himself up with his arm and lying on his side as the muscles in his body fought for breath.

"Dean..." Sam sat down on the edge of the bed and gently scooped his brother up into his arms so that he was lying back against his chest to support him as he sat upright. "It's okay...it's okay..." He comforted softly, reaching across to grab the inhaler that had been too far out of his little brother's reach when he started wheezing before raising it to his brother's mouth. "How bad?" He asked softly.

"Two hits." Dean managed to get out after a few wheezes in an almost inaudible tone that only his older brother, the one who had been by his side through every struggle he'd ever experienced with his asthma, would be able to understand.

Sam nodded, wincing slightly at the thought of how long his little brother had been struggling for before he had woken up. "That bad huh?"

Dean went to take the inhaler from his brother, but his shaking hands were making it almost impossible.

Sam smiled sadly before gently taking hold of his little brother's shaky hand and raising it up to the inhaler he was holding, before pressing down on the top releasing a burst of the spray before doing the same a few seconds later. Dean hated the fact that he lost his independence when his asthma spiked, so Sam would always do whatever he could to give some of it back to his little brother.

Sam rubbed a hand down Dean's back. The doctor's had told him when Dean was first diagnosed about all of the tricks that could be used to help him try and help his little brother's breathing. By applying a soft amount of pressure to Dean's back, it somehow helps to take the pressure off his chest slightly making it easier for him to breathe.

"S'm..." Dean's weak tone called.

"Don't try and talk...just breathe, Dean..." Sam reassured softly as he stretched across the nightstand and grabbed the remains of the glass of water Dean had been drinking earlier. "Here." He brought the glass to his brother's lips.

Dean greedily drank the water, thankful as the cool liquid helped to douse his raw throat from the coughing and wheezing. "Thanks..."

"You're welcome." Sam smiled, replacing the inhaler and glass on the nightstand. He then placed a hand across his little brother's forehead, wincing at the temperature. "You feeling okay, buddy?" He asked softly.

Dean shook his head as he buried himself closer to his older brother, resting his head against his chest.

Dean always became more clingy when his asthma spiked or when he wasn't feeling well. But if it made his little brother feel even a little bit better, Sam didn't care. He would stay there all night if Dean wanted him too. And he always did.

"Feel s'k..." Dean's weak tone slurred.

"Feel or gonna'?" Sam asked.

"G'nna..."

Sam wrapped his arms tightly around his brother and dragged him off the bed and across the motel room, pushing the door open to the bathroom hastily with his side. Dragging Dean the last few feet to the toilet, he was just in time as his little brother began puking as soon as his head reached the white porcelain bowl.

"It's okay, De...It's okay..." He supported his weak little brother in his arms as he gently stroked a hand down his back, comfortingly. "Just get it all out...you'll feel better."

"I won't...never do..." Came Dean's response.

Sam hated seeing his brother so ill and worn down. It's not fair that his little brother's had been born with crappy lungs that would give up on him too many times a day, or just go straight for it and try and kill him by depriving him of oxygen so bad that he can't even shout for Sam to help. It's not fair that the fire at their old house screwed up his lungs even more despite the fact that Sam had put the blanket their Dad had wrapped him in over him gently so that the smoke wouldn't hurt him as he ran out of the house. It's not fair that Dean can't be a normal kid and take part in sports at school like all the other kids, or be away from Sam for long periods of time because people don't understand what to do when his asthma does spike meaning that he can't go out by himself and can't be left alone for any length of time. It's not fair that Dean has to go to the hospital more times than most adults ever would in their lifetime because sometimes he gets so ill that even Sam can't look after him. It's not fair that at thirteen, Dean has already been intubated a dozen times through nearly dying because of his lungs being fucked. It's not fair how much Dean has had to suffer through in his short life, and it's not fair that Dean is now asking for his Dad who Sam knows won't be back for a least a couple of days cause' he's working a job a few states over.

"Dad's not here, Dean...but he'll be back soon." Sam comforted as he ran a hand through Dean's hair.

"Liar." Dean mumbled.

Sam sighed. "He'll be here, Dean..." He paused. "You finished?"

Dean nodded.

Grabbing a washcloth, Sam wiped his brother's mouth before placing his arms under Dean's armpits and hoisting him up gently so that he wouldn't hurt him before lifting him into his arms. Dean hated it when Sam carried him, but it was sometimes easier and meant that he could get Dean back to bed quicker while also causing him minimal pain through not having to practically drag him across the room. Lying the pillow against the headboard, Sam placed Dean down so that he was resting back against it before walking over to the table by the kitchenette and grabbing the nebuliser. He brought it back across and placed it at arms reach on the nightstand before going into the bathroom and refilling the glass of water. Shuffling in beside his little brother, he once again lifted him so that he was resting back against his chest.

Dean buried himself closer to his older brother once again. "It doesn't mat'r..."

Sam furrowed an eyebrow. "What?"

"About Dad being here...g't you..." Dean stated.

Sam smiled softly at his little brother's words. "Yeah, you have." He agreed. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"I know..."

Sam listened to his little brother's laboured breaths. "Do you want me to set up the neb?" He asked.

Dean nodded before he began coughing.

"Here." Sam held the mouthpiece.

Dean accepted it and Sam pressed the button on the machine.

Dean began coughing once again. Each one sounding more painful than the last.

"Just breathe...just breathe..." Sam rubbed a firm hand down his brother's back. "...the medicine will kick in...just ride it out...I'm right here..." He reassured.

"It hurts, S'm..." Dean eyes screwed closed as he wrapped an arm around his chest.

"I know..." Sam drew his little brother ever closer in his arms, wrapping his arms around him. "I know...

Tears were beginning to fall down Dean's cheeks.

Sam noticed this immediately. "Hey. Hey...hey...hey...hey...hey..." He repeated in a bid to get his little brother's attention.

Dean looked up at his older brother with bloodshot, pain filled eyes.

"It's okay..." He stroked a hand down his brother's back once again to try and relieve the pressure. "The neb won't work as well if you cry and you need the neb to help with the pain...you have to ride it out, Dean...I'm sorry, but you have to..." Sam was nearly crying himself, and he felt like the world's shittiest brother ever for not being able to help and making his brother have to go through pain. The nebuliser doesn't work as well when the user is crying because not as much of the medicine is breathed in, so Sam had to be firm, and he hated having to be.

Dean's hand came up to the mouthpiece to try and pull it away.

Sam grabbed his hand and moved it back down to his side, holding it there gently. "Dean...no. You need to let it help you...I know your chest hurts right now, but the neb will help you..."

"I hate you...I hate you..." Dean stated in as stern a tone as he could muster.

"I know you do..." Sam replied. This was the part of the asthma spikes that he hated. That he had always hated, because his little brother always became emotional when he was hurting, and struggling for breath, and Sam was just unfortunate that he was on the receiving end. He would get chewed up by his little brother, but Sam didn't care because he knew it wasn't his Dean talking. "Just breathe...just breathe..."

And eventually, his little brother began to relax as the nebuliser finally began to take effect.

Sam could feel Dean slumping further and further against his chest as the hands that had been fighting to try and free himself of the mouthpiece released the grip that they had once had. Sam stroked a hand through his little brother's hair.

After about twenty minutes of Sam listening to the sound of his brother's improved breathing, Dean spoke up.

"I'm sorry..."

Sam looked down at his little brother. "For what?" He asked, softly.

"For saying I hated you." Dean explained. "I don't hate you...I could never hate you."

"Don't worry about it." Sam reassured.

"No." Dean continued. "You've always looked after me, through everything. When Dad's been away on hunts, when I've have to go to hospital, when I have an attack. You've always been stuck here looking after me...it's not fair on you."

"That's my job." Sam answered with a gentle smile as he continued to stroke his brother's hair. "And it always will be." He explained. "I don't care that I'm always looking after you, Dean, you're my little brother."

"But..."

"Dean..." Sam began. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

And that's how John found them a few hours later as he walked into the motel room. One little brother lying against the chest of the elder who had his arms wrapped protectively around the younger in a way that wouldn't disturb his little brother's breathing, both asleep. He immediately knew that it had been a bad night. The light of the bathroom was on and the slight smell of puke was in the air while the nebuliser was on the nightstand beside his youngest's bed that his eldest was now sharing. John winced at the fact that he once again hadn't been there to look after his youngest when his asthma had gotten the better of him. The responsibility of his youngest's care had once again falling on his eldest who he knew go to hell and back to take care of his little brother.

Picking up the blanket from the chair, he walked over to the bed his two boys were sharing and gently draped it over them. "Night, boys."


	4. The Adventures of Sam Winchester

Title comes from the book **The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn**

**_Requested by anon_**

_Prompt: AU - Abusive!John. Sam always took the hits for Dean without his little brother even knowing. After meeting up with John, Sam's reluctance to help their father out on a case leads to an argument between the Winchester brothers. As things get heated, the truth slips out._

Sam is **22** and Dean is **18** in this story.

In the flashback, Sam is **10** and Dean is **6**.

* * *

Sat at the wheel of the Impala, Sam was trying not to explode. Dean had lost the argument over who was driving, with Sam stating that the car was his first so therefore he gets to drive. He had also won the choice of music argument too, through using his usual comeback of 'driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole', so the sound of Pearl Jam was playing through the Impala. Not that either Winchester could hear it. Since meeting up with their father, the brothers had done nothing but argue on the drive to the motel that he had given them the address for. They had received a text earlier that day saying that something big was going down and that he needed their help to take it down, which obviously meant that Dean rushed into Daddy's little soldier mode and made them shag ass to the co-ordinates he'd attached to the text.

"...I mean the guy's just trying to do the best he can in an impossible situation..." Dean continued, Sam having zoned out a couple of minutes ago at the sound of his little brother's speech in defense of their father.

Not once had he seen his brother actually question anything their Dad had said. Dean would always just fall into line and do what Dad told him to do without complaint. Sam hated it when conversations like this would come up because Dean would never understand why he felt the way he did towards their Dad. Why Sam hated seeing the man, hated being around him. And the same topic would always come up every time. 'Stanford'. Dean would never understand the significance of Stanford. How going there saved him. He only knew the bare bones of the story. The false story. The story that their father told. The story that Sam also told him so that he wouldn't find out the truth. Because the truth would break him. Would break him. The truth would end the bond that Dean and their Dad had. Dean would never be able to look at their Dad the same. Wouldn't trust him. Wouldn't want to see him. And Sam didn't want that to happen, because he loved his little brother, and he didn't want him and their Dad to fall out because of him.

"Sam?!" Dean shouted. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Do you want me to honestly answer that?" Sam asked.

Dean rolled his eyes as he slumped back against the window, elbow rested on the door. "You're a right dick sometimes...you know that?"

Sam ignored the jab.

But Dean was unrelenting. "But seriously, Sam..." Dean leaned forward again. "What is it with you and Dad? Why do you two fight so much?"

"It's a long story, Dean." Sam answered.

"Stop saying that! That is the only answer you and Dad ever give me!" Dean shouted. "I don't want to talk about it, Dean! It's between me and your brother, Dean! It's a long story, Dean!" He mimicked.

Sam didn't say anything.

"And you wonder why I'm Dad's favourite." Dean munbled under his breath.

Anger flaring, Sam pulled off onto the dirt at the side of the road before cutting the engine and getting of the car, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dean furrowed an eyebrow before getting out the car himself.

It was clear that Sam was trying to keep himself calm.

"Sam?..." Dean approached with a softer tone.

Sam shook his head.

"Sam, I didn't mean..." Dean began.

"No...that's exactly what you meant, and you know it was." Sam stated.

"Okay...fine..." Dean's tone raised. "Yeah, I am Dad's favourite, but maybe if you hadn't of ditched us for Stanford, you might still be Dad's favourite."

"Right..." Sam scoffed. "You say that like I was ever Dad's favourite. Like he ever gave a shit about me."

"That's bullshit!" Dean shouted.

"Is it?!" Sam retorted.

"Yes! You're acting a kid who's moaning because he's not getting enough attention!"

"I don't care about the attention, Dean! I care about how he treated me!" Sam shouted before his eyes widened in realisation of what he had just said.

Dean furrowed an eyebrow. "Sam?..." It was then that he saw the petrified look on his older brother's face and instantly knew something was wrong. "Hey..." He closed the gap between him and his brother. "Whatever it is...you can tell me." Dean stated softly.

"I can't..." Sam stated in a weak tone.

"Yes you can." Dean reassured. "You're safe...no one can hurt you. And I wouldn't let them. I can protect you...but not you if you don't sell me what's wrong."

"You don't understand, Dean." Sam was close to tears.

"Then help me to...Something is seriously eating away at you, man...I wanna' help."

"I can't..." Sam looked down.

"Why not?" Dean asked.

"Because it's not fair on you." Sam answered.

Before Dean had a chance to say anything in response, Sam's phone began to ring.

"Dad?"

"You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago!" The gruff voice at the other end of the phone stated sternly.

"We had to stop for gas." Sam lied. "Look we're not far out..."

"People are dying, Sam...Now get your ass into gear and get over here now! Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir." Sam replied.

"Good, now hurry up." John hung up.

Sam, who had been biting his tongue through the whole conversation, breathed an angry breath before walking off back to the Impala and climbing in, throwing his phone onto the dashboard.

"What did he say?" Dean asked as he too got into the car.

"Same old, same old." Sam responded before he drove off.

* * *

Arriving at the co-ordinates John had given them, Sam noticed their father's truck and parked up beside it.

"So did he tell you where he was?" Dean asked, climbing out of the car and walking round to the trunk.

"What do you think?" Sam asked, dryly.

"I was just askin'." Dean stated before rolling his eyes and opening the weapons cache. "Jeez." He mumbled quietly under his breath so Sam wouldn't hear.

As Sam walked round to the trunk, Dean turned to him.

"So what do we need?" He asked.

"He didn't say." Sam took his phone out of his pocket and dialled John's number.

"Sam. Are you here yet?" Came a blunt response.

"Yeah we're at the co-ordinates. What are we hunting?" Sam asked.

"Got some unfinished business for you to take care of." John stated.

Sam furrowed an eyebrow. "What?"

"The shtriga that you nearly let kill your brother..." He paused.

Sam's eyes widened.

Dean furrowed an eyebrow at how pale his older brother had become in a matter of seconds. "Sam?" He spoke up. "Sam, what is it?"

"I..." Sam began, but didn't know what else to say.

"Pack up and get into the woods. And I swear to god you better not screw this up again!" John stated. "You hear me?!" He asked aggressively.

"Yes, Sir." Sam answered in a weak tone before he hung up.

Dean walked over to Sam. "Hey..." He began softly. "Are you alright?" Dean placed a hand on his older brother's arm before his eyes widened. "You're shaking."

Sam pulled his arm away from Dean's grip. "I'm fine...I'm fine..." He walked over to the trunk once again before pulling out a metal case. "And I know why Dad sent us here. He's faced this thing before. He wants me to finish the job."

"What are we hunting?" Dean asked.

"Shtriga." Sam answered as he opened the case.

"Consecrated iron rounds?" Dean furrowed an eyebrow. "What is this thing? A ghost?"

Sam shook his head. "It's kind of...like a kind of witch. They're Albanian, but legends about them date back to Ancient Rome. They feed of Spiritus Vitae. 'Breath of Life'. Kind of like your life force or essence. Shtriga's takes your vitality, and then your immune system goes to Hell, pneumonia takes hold. Shtriga's can feed on anyone, but they prefer children. Probably because they have stronger life force." He explained. "Consecrated iron rounds are the only things that can kill em' cause' Shtrigas are invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and Man."

Dean furrowed an eyebrow. "Wait...How the hell do you know so much about this thing? Cause' I've never heard of it. And it's not in Dad's journal."

"Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin, about 11, 12 years ago. You were there. You don't remember?" Sam asked.

"No." Dean paused. "So wait, this..."

"Shtriga."

"Right. You think it's the same one Dad hunted before?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, maybe."

"But if Dad went after it why is it still breathing air?"

"Cause it got away." Sam answered.

"Got away?" Dean almost smirked.

"Yeah Dean, it happens." Stated Sam in a tone that showed he was clearly starting to get frustrated.

"Not very often."

"Well I don't know what to tell ya, maybe Dad didn't have his wheaties that morning." Sam shrugged.

"What else do you remember?"

"Nothin'. I was a kid all right?" Stated Sam.

"Sam..." Dean just looked at his older brother, knowing that something about this hunt was clearly bothering him. The shaking still hadn't subsided which was clear as he watched Sam attempt to load the guns with the iron rounds. Stepping forward, he took the guns from his brother and loaded them himself.

"Thanks." Sam smiled slightly. "We need to get moving cause' if this thing disappears it could be years before we get another chance." He grabbed one of the guns off Dean before closing the cache lid and the trunk.

"Woah, woah, Sam..." Dean stepped in front of his brother. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

Sam nodded. "Dad did not send me here to walk away."

Dean furrowed an eyebrow. "Send **_you_ **here? He didn't send you here...he sent us here." He stated.

"This isn't about you, Dean. I'm the one who screwed up, all right. It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me." Sam shouted before his tone became softer and he scrubbed a hand down his face.

"What are you saying, Sam?" Dean paused. "How is it your fault?"

There was a long pause before Dean eventually spoke up again with a sigh. "Sam. You've been hiding something from the get-go. Since when does Dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away? Now talk to me, man. Tell me what's going on."

"Fort Douglas, Wisconsin. It was our third night in this crap room and I was climbing the walls. Man, I needed to get some air. You were asleep in the bedroom, so I went out. Locked the door behind me and went out to the arcade in the lobby of the motel. I was only gone for like twenty minutes, but when I came back, the light was on in the bedroom, and there was this..." Sam paused as he tried to compose himself. "Thing leaning over you on the bed, it was draining you, so I grabbed my gun, but I didn't know what to do. I panicked, and then Dad came bursting through the door screaming for me to get down, and then he shot the thing. He winged it, but it managed to get away. Dad spent the night calming you down and trying to get you back to sleep. I didn't sleep the night, I just kept vigil outside the door to make sure nothing else would get to you..." He explained before lowering his head in shame.

"What did Dad say to you?" Dean asked.

"He asked me what happened, so I told him that I'd gone out." Sam scoffed. "He didn't take that very well." He winced.

Dean noticed. "Sam..."

Sam looked up at him brother.

"What happened after?"

Sam's silence told Dean everything.

"He hit you, didn't he?"

"Don't get mad at him." Sam quickly defended. "He was right. Dad gave me an order and I didn't listen, and I almost got you killed. Then after that night, Dad never spoke about it again, and I obviously didn't ask. But he...ah...he looked at me different, you know? Which was worse. Not that I blame him."

"You were just a kid." Dean stated softly.

"Don't. Don't." He shook his head. "Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. He sent me here to finish it." Sam explained.

Dean gave his older brother a reassuring smile. "Sam...what did Dad do?"

"After he'd managed to get you back to sleep, Dad went out. I tried to ask him where he was going, but I got told where to shove it. When he came back, he was drunk, and he said some stuff."

_The door opened as John stumbled in._

_Sam was on his feet in seconds from his position on the floor where he had been leaning back against the door of the bedroom. "Dad?"_

_"What are you still doing up?" John asked._

_"Couldn't sleep." Sam answered._

_"Worried you were gonna' let your brother nearly get killed again?"_

_"I never meant for any of this to happen." Sam was trying to keep his emotions at bay as he looked over at his father._

_"But it did happen, Sam." John stated. "Dean nearly died because of you...Your little brother."_

_"I know." Sam nodded. "I'm sorry..."_

_"It's not good enough, Sam." John walked closer to his eldest. "Sometimes I wonder whether you're even mine. I mean you're useless. Completely useless. You can't even keep your little brother safe!"_

_"I'm sorry..." Sam whimpered in response._

_"Stop. Saying. You're. Sorry!" John shouted as he slapped his eldest across the face causing him to fall backwards onto the floor of the motel room._

_Sam's eyes widened as he put a hand to his now stinging cheek. A tear trickled down his face._

_"Don't you **dare** start crying, Sam!" He warned sternly. "Why is it that you have so little respect for me that you would just ignore an order I had given you and go out? I directly told you not to leave this room, and you disobeyed me!" _

_"Dad...please..." Sam whimpered once again._

_"You're no son of mine!" John landed a kick to his eldest's stomach._

_Sam curled up into a ball, wrapping his arms around his stomach to try and defend his small body from his father's blows. Tears were running down his cheeks now as he called out in pain each time the boot made contact with his skin._

_Once he had finished, John shook his head. "I'm ashamed to call you a Winchester sometimes." He walked off._

_Sam didn't move from the position he was in as pain flared up in his chest at every attempt to even do something as simple as sit up, so he slumped back against the floor, and finally let his emotions out._

Dean felt sick as he looked at the sheer emotion on his older brother's face as he explained what their father had been capable of all those years ago. "I'm gonna' kill him!" He snarled in anger as he shook his head.

"Dean..." Sam began.

"Don't even try and defend him!" Dean stated sternly. "The man kicked the shit out of you, and you're still jumping to his defense."

"But it was _**my**_ fault." Sam stated.

"It wasn't your fault!" Dean shouted. "I mean for fuck sake, how old were you that night?"

"Ten." Sam answered.

Dean's eyes widened as he scoffed. "Ten...You were ten years old, Sam! I know that Dad made you feel like this was all your fault, but it wasn't. None of it was, and you need to understand that."

"But..."

"Sam..." Dean interrupted. "It's not your fault. You have to believe me when I say that."

A tear trickled down Sam's cheek.

Dean's heart wrenched as he watched his older brother's mask crumble. Closing the gap between his older brother and himself, Dean wrapped his arms around Sam and pulled him closer into a tight embrace.

And that's when Sam broke down, letting all of the emotions that he had kept locked away over the years out as he cried on his brother's shoulder.

"It's okay..." Dean reassured. "It's okay..."

When Sam had stopped crying, Dean pulled away and smiled softly at him. "What do you say we ditch and go find ourselves another hunt?"

Sam smiled and nodded. "I'd like that."

"Me too."

As Sam's phone began to ring with their Dad's name as the caller ID, both brothers stared at the phone.

Picking it up, Dean threw it against the tree causing it to smash into thousands of small pieces. He then turned back to Sam. "We'll buy you a new one." He smiled.

Sam laughed.

Getting into the Impala, the two Winchester brothers drove off, AC/DC blaring in search of something else that needed ganking.


	5. The Sorrows of Young Sam Winchester

_Prompt: Tag to **Jump the Shark**. What if Dean was the one in Sam's place?_

Set in **Season 4**.

Title from **The Sorrows of Young Werther** by **Johann Wolfgang von Goethe**.

* * *

Dean stirred as consciousness began to come back to him. Trying to move his wrists, he found that he appeared to be bound. Flickering his eyes open, Dean winced as a shooting pain pierced through his head from the site of where he had been hit with the butt of the gun. Glancing at his bindings, he found that he was tied to the table with thick rope wrapped heavily around his wrists while his body was held down by a large leather strap.

Adam's mother, or whatever was taking her form, was humming to herself while playing with a knife before she noticed that he was awake and turned to face him.

"Silver. No wonder none of the tests worked. You're not shapeshifters. You're ghouls." Dean realised.

"You know, I find that term racist." She pointed the knife at him before walking closer and leaning down to sniff his neck before nibbling slightly on his ear. "Mmm. Fresh meat. So much better than what we're used to."

Dean tried to move as far away from her as his bindings would allow him. "I should have known. It was the fresh kills that threw me. Ghouls don't usually go after the living. See, you're just filthy scavengers, feeding off the dead—taking the form of the last corpse you choke down."

"And their thoughts. And their memories. Like Adam, for instance." The new voice marked the arrival of the ghoul in Adam's form into the room.

"Well, we are what we eat." Mommy ghoul stated.

"You're monsters." Dean scoffed.

This statement caused Mommy ghoul to scowl before she roughly shoved up the sleeves of his plaid shirt and proceeded to run her silver blade along his skin, drawing a line of blood.

Dean groaned slightly.

"You know, you use that word a lot, Dean." Adam stated.

Mommy Ghoul leant down forward and began drinking the blood that was spilling from the cut. She handed the knife to Adam's form who then proceeded to slam it into the table beside Dean's head causing him to bolt slightly in shock. "

"But I don't think you know what it means." He continued.

"His blood, it takes different." Mommy Ghoul stated.

"Our father was a monster? Why? Because of what he ate? He never hurt anyone, Dean. Living, anyway." Adam stated.

Mommy Ghoul pulled the knife out of the table before walking around the side of the table. "No..." She lifted up Dean's t shirt revealing his stomach. "He was no monster..." Positioning the knife over his stomach, Mommy Ghoul slowly began to push the knife into Dean's skin, twisting and turning it to make the experience all the more unpleasant for Dean. "But the thing that killed him was..."

"Gah!" Dean screamed as he felt the knife ripping apart the skin.

"A monster named John Winchester." With one last push, she jammed the knife in further so that the hilt of the blade was only just above the opening of the wound before ripping it out.

"Guh..." Dean moaned as his eyes flickered.

"Thanks to your daddy, my brother and I grew up on our own. At least we had each other." Mommy Ghoul continued.

Adam was now drinking from his wrist too, blood all over his mouth and chin as he moved away to look at Dean in the eye. "Like you and your brother. Inseparable."

"Actually, it was very hard to get you on your own." Mommy Ghoul stated. "Sam is very protective of his little brother. So you could see our problem of how to separate the two of you."

"Le-leave...Sa-Sam...alone..." Dean willed his tone to be stronger, but it came out as a weak mumble.

"What was that Deano?" Mommy Ghoul smirked. "Leave Sammy alone?" Her expression turned monstrous. "I don't think we'll be doing that."

"You...you have me..." Dean continued, fighting consciousness as he did so. "...just leave...him..."

Adam took the knife off Mommy Ghoul and proceeded to dig the point into Dean's arm. "Cause' revenge—it's never over, is it, Dean?"

"First, it was John's cop friend, and then his slut, and then his son." Mommy Ghoul listed.

"Then I called John, but the son of a bitch was already dead."

"So I guess you and Sam will have to do instead." Mommy Ghoul grinned.

"Sam won't interrupt us this time. We're gonna feed on you nice and slow—like we did with Adam." Adam's form stated.

"Oh, and, by the way..." Mommy Ghoul leant closer to his ear as she began to whisper. "...he really was your brother."

Anger flared up inside Dean as he clenched his fists.

"You should know that."

"He was still alive when we took our first bites." Adam's form explained.

"And he was a screamer." Mommy Ghoul emphasised before they both grabbed knives and began roughly cutting Dean's arms to shreds causing blood to stream from the wounds almost immediately into the white porcelain bowls they had positioned below.

"Gahh!" Dean screamed at each slash, screwing his eyes together to try and fight the excruciating pain.

"Dean, the more you struggle, the faster you're gonna bleed out. So you might as well lie back and relax." Adam's form advised.

"Hey!" Dean heard his brother's voice shout from across the room.

Just then there was the sound of a gun firing.

Mommy Ghoul's eyes widened before she leant down over Dean and bit his arm.

"Guh..." Dean eyes widened as he felt the ghoul's poison entering his bloodstream.

Mommy Ghoul then ran towards Sam.

"Sam, they're ghouls!" Dean shouted with as much strength as he could muster as he felt the poison spreading through his body like wildfire.

With this new piece of information, Sam paused and changed his target.

The gun fired once again before Dean heard the sound of a body dropping limply to the floor.

"Which means head-shots." Sam stated before he was grabbed by Adam's form and slammed back through the glass doors, landing on his back amongst the shards of broken glass, Adam over him with his hands wrapped around Sam's throat.

Throwing him off him to the side, Sam landed a punch across the ghoul's face before repeating the action again and again until Adam's forms movements became sluggish. This gave him enough time to grab a metal bar that was lying across the floor and slam it repeatedly down on Adam's form until he was sure he was dead. Getting to his feet, Sam wiped a hand across his face.

"S'm..." Called a weak tone.

Running into the room, Sam's eyes widened at the sight of his little brother. Blood was pouring from slashed wrists and a wound on his stomach. "Dean..." He quickly got to work removing his shirt and ripping it into strips to use as bandages to staunch the bleeding. "Dean...hold on, Dean." He stated as he cut the ropes from around his wrists and cut the strap freeing his brother from the table. "Dean..." Sam repeated, trying to get some form of response from his little brother. "Dean?..." He looked at his brother and gasped at what he saw.

Dean's eyes were closed.

"No! No, no, no, no, no..." Moving down closer to him, he placed his hands on his little brother's cheeks and felt the heat that was radiating from them. "Dean...Dean!" He shouted.

Dean's eyelids fluttered. "G'na be s'k..." He muttered weakly.

Grabbing the bowl used to collect Dean's blood, Sam sprinted over to the sink and dumped the contents in before returning to his brother in an instant. Sam knew he would have to hurt his little brother for his own safety next, and that made Sam feel like the worst brother in the world. Wrapping an arm around his brother's chest, Sam heaved him onto his side as he held the bowl under his brother's mouth with his other hand.

Dean screamed out in pain from the movement before he emptied the contents of his stomach into the bowl.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Sam cood, supporting his brother the best he could to try and stop his resting on his slashed arms. When Dean had finished being sick, he gently laid his brother back down on his back on the table.

"S'm..." Dean moaned once again as Sam saw a pain filled tear trickle down his cheek. "B'rns." He mumbled.

Sam's eyes widened. "What burns, Dean?" The revelation gave the oldest Winchester something new to panic about.

Dean didn't answer.

"Dean!" He shouted to keep his brother conscious. "What burns?"

"Arm..." Dean's voice trailed off before he gasped and began bucking on the table. "Gahh!" He screamed out as his body seized.

"Dean!" Sam screamed. "No, no, no, Dean!" It wasn't a seizure, but something was affecting his brother. Reaching across the table, Sam lifted Dean's arm gently as he took in the sight of the bite marks that were now oozing dark red blood. Sam immediately tried to remember what the book had said about ghouls. There was a clipping in the journal about the effects of a ghoul's bite. Although it was poisonous, it didn't do any lasting harm and wasn't fatal but did cause the sensation of burning and extreme pain for the victim.

"Gahh!" Dean cried out as more tears began to fall. "Ahhhh!" His voice was so childlike as he called out, the pain becoming too much to hold within.

"I know it hurts, De...I know...but you have to just hold on for me..." His tone was soft but petrified as he wrapped his arms around his little brother the best he could and gently began to cast a hand through Dean's light brown hair offering what little comfort he could give. "It will end...I know it's painful and that you hate me right now for making you suffer through this, and that I'm a shit older brother for letting this happen to you in the first place..." He paused. "Trust me, I know..." Sam began rubbing circles on his little brother's back soothingly. "...but you have to fight it. You can fight the poison, you just have to be strong, De..."

"S'm..." Dean moaned as he sought out his brother's hand.

"I'm right here, De..." Sam gently took his little brother's bloody hand in his, squeezing it gently in reassurance. "I'm right here...and I'm not going anywhere. You're gonna' get through this."

When the poison had finally passed as Dean was sleeping peacefully, Sam was a wreck. Having called Bobby to tell him what had happened a few hours earlier, he arrived to find the eldest Winchester stood beside the table in which his little brother was lying on keeping vigil over him.

"Sam..." He called softly.

The eldest Winchester brother turned to him with a sorrow expression and dark red eyes from crying.

Closing the gap between him and John's eldest, he gathered the kid in his arms.

Sam broke down in Bobby's arms, burying his head into his surrogate father's shoulder as he sobbed.

Bobby knew that the boy had obviously been scared about losing his little brother, and looking over at the state of John's youngest, he could see why. The kid's arms were covered in a mass of tightly tied fabric strips of what had once been the eldest's shirt. It also appeared that Sam had had to improvise as a cloth had been stuck over what Bobby guessed to be a wound on Dean's stomach. The ropes that must have once bound Dean to the table were still wrapped around the youngest's wrists, Sam obviously not wanting to put his little brother through anymore pain through having to untangle and peel the ropes away from Dean's bloody wrists.

It was rare to see the Winchester boys cry.

At a young age, John had always told the boys that crying was a sign of weaknesses, stating it was pride damaging rather than healthy. So to see the eldest Winchester so broken and openly sobbing into his shoulder told Bobby just how much he was struggling.

Pulling away from Bobby, the eldest's expression showed slight embarrassment in having broken down in front of him before he wiped a hand across his eyes and walked back into the other room.

Bobby followed before taking in the kid's expression as he looked at his little brother. He placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "It's not your fault, kid." He stated softly, knowing that Sam would be ripping himself to shreds inside for allowing his little brother to get hurt. Because it was against everything in the kid's coding. John had drilled it into Sam's head ever since he was little that it was his responsibility to look after Dean and keep him safe. And so Sam had. But on those occasions when Dean got hurt, even if it wasn't Sam's fault, Sam would always get the brunt of it off John for not looking after his little brother. The guilt Sam experienced would then practically eat him alive as he cursed himself for being stupid enough to allow Dean to get hurt. Because that's the impact that John had had on the kid. Sam would punish himself for his little brother getting hurt, stating that it was his fault and could somehow of stopped it from happening. And Bobby hated the fact that the kid always did this to himself. What he was doing now.

"I should have just stayed with him, then none of this would have happened." Sam stated, his eyes not leaving his little brother. "It would have been me."

"Sam, there wasn't anything you could have done." Bobby spoke in reassurance.

"I wasn't there for him when he needed me, and they nearly drained him dry, Bobby..." Sam's voice trailed off slightly. "You don't know how much blood was in those bowls when I got to him!"

"All that matters is that he's safe now." Bobby stated. "Now we need to get him back to my place and stitch him up."

Sam nodded.

Bobby sighed. "Sam..."

Sam turned to look at him.

"This wasn't your fault."

Sam didn't answer as he reached into his pocket and threw Bobby the keys to the Impala before gently wrapped an arm around his little brother, being careful not to disturb the cuts and wounds before wrapping another arm under his back. Lifting him into his arms, Sam walked through the house, kicking the door open with his foot gently before making his way outside.

Bobby followed the eldest and opened the backdoor of the Impala for him.

"Thanks." Sam acknowledged before leant down and placed his little brother across the backseat before climbing in himself and gathering him up in his arms, resting Dean's head in his lap. Casting a hand through his hair gently, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Dean...but I'm gonna' make it right."

Bobby climbed into the driver's seat. Looking in the rear view mirror at the two boys in the backseat, he smiled softly at just how much the eldest loved his little brother before putting the keys into the ignition and starting her up.


	6. Sam's Choice

This was requested by **Guest**.

_Prompt: Dean's reaction to Sam leaving for Stanford and Sam's reaction to Dean showing up after four years._

Title from **Sophie's Choice** by **William Styron**._  
_

* * *

Sat on the floor, back leaning against the door. Arms wrapped around shaking knees which were pulled up to his chest. Head buried amongst his arms, Dean sobbed as he tried to block out the sound of shouting from downstairs.

Sam and John had been arguing ever since John had returned from a hunt an hour ago. Having forgotten to hide his Stanford acceptance letter that must have arrived earlier that morning, John had found it and was now giving Sam hell.

"How dare you go behind my back!" Their father shouted. "You had no right to do this, Sam! No right at all!"

"And why's that?!" Sam scoffed.

"Because you have a duty to this family, in case you've forgotten!"

"I have had a duty to this family my entire life! I have always done what you told me to do. Always followed your orders. I've trained, researched, looked after Dean, looked after you when you've been too drunk to stay on your feet!" Sam listed. "But now that I actually want something for myself...no...that's too much to ask!"

John shook his head. "You're unbelievable!"

"Why, because I want to actually get out of this life? Get an education, a job, have a family? Live some normal apple pie life that doesn't involve killing a monster every week?!" Sam asked.

"Hunters can't ever have lives like that! You know that Sam!" John stated.

"How would you know?"

"What?" John furrowed an eyebrow.

Sam scoffed. "How would you know? I mean..." He held his arms out at his sides. "You didn't exactly try."

"I did what was best for you and your brother, to keep you safe." John stated.

"That's crap and you know it!" Sam retorted. "I have been nothing more than a soldier to you since I was four years old...and Dean, well he hasn't exactly had much of anything that resembles a childhood. You started training him up the second he found out about what we do. Didn't even blink just through him in at the deep end and hoped he'd float." Sam paused. "And I mean, you've nearly killed the pair of us at least ten times."

"Is there something you wanna' say to me?!" John's tone grew sterner.

"I'm going to college, Dad...and you can't stop me." Sam stated firmly.

"The hell I can!" He shouted. "Even if I have to handcuff you to the friggin' bedpost for the rest of your life, you're not leaving this house!"

"I am 18 years old!" Sam shouted. "You can't control me anymore!"

"Watch me!"

"So what...you're just gonna' walk out on me, on Dean? Your own little brother?"

Sam bit his cheek to stop himself from lashing out at his father. "I've been more of a father to Dean then you ever have! I was the one who fed him, changed him, stopped him from crying when he was a baby when you were too wrapped up in your own guilt to actually look after your six month old son. Then I was the one to look after him and feed him when you were away on hunts, which with you was like every week and you'd always come back late. I took him to school, lied to the teachers when they asked where you were, went to his plays and even his parents evenings when I was older. I looked after him when he had nightmares. I was the one who had to tell him about what we do after he got so upset that you weren't gonna' be there for Christmas that year when we were little, but you didn't come back any of the years after that either so you know, A star parenting there. I was the one that had to work some form of job in the area just to get enough money to actually buy him some presents so the kid wouldn't feel like his father had forgotten him at Christmas, again. But I always used to tag them from you too, tell him that you'd left them with me despite the fact that you would never even have given a thought to buying some Christmas presents. And then I was also the one who had to look after Dean through all the times in which you nearly killed him. Stopping him from bleeding out, driving him to the hospital, staying with him in his room when I was barely old enough to be there unaccompanied, having to watch my brother nearly die from all kind of injuries, seeing him code in the ambulance on the way to the hospital after a werewolf decided he wanted to decorate the place with Dean's insides. I felt so utterly useless because no matter how bad I wanted to help him, there was nothing I could physically do to help him. I just had to watch the paramedics try and save my brother who was literally seconds away from dying, shocking him and prodding him with all kinds of wires and tubes of which there soul purpose was to try keep my little brother alive. He died in front of me, Dad..." Sam's tone crumbled slightly. "That's what coded means...Learnt it that day when the paramedics were shouting it to each other for like five minutes until his heart started again. I was also there for him when he had to get casts on and then watched out for him when he was hopping round on crutches. I was the one who had to ride him to the hospital on my handlebars that time when he broke his arm because you wouldn't answer your friggin' phone!" He paused. "The list is endless, Dad! So don't you **_ever_** use that card on me! Dean is the only thing that has kept me here so long!"

"You act like you're some perfect son, but you're not...you never have been...and you never will..." John paused. "We are in this fight to kill the son of a bitch that killed you mother. Dean's mother, and you're walking out! Do you even still care about her?!" John shouted.

Sam was fuming as he grabbed his Dad by the collar of his shirt and pushed him back against the wall, holding him there. "Don't you dare...Don't you dare bring Mom into this! How dare you! How could you say that?..." Sam's tone weakened again. "I miss her more than anything in the world, you sick bastard!" He shook his head, trying to compose himself. "You weren't the only one lost Mom. I lost her too!" He shouted.

"Do you think she'd be proud of you, deserting your family like this?" John questioned. "She had family at heart, always put _them_ first."

"You're a hypocrite, you know that?!" Sam scoffed. "You talk about putting family first, you talk about having them at heart. Did you put family first when you'd lash out at me when you'd get drunk? Did you have family at heart when I had to steal food so Dean wouldn't go hungry and got arrested? What were your words again..." He paused. "Oh yeah, that I could rot in jail for all you cared! Do you even know what that means?!"

Anger flared within John as he flipped and pushed Sam off him, knocking him back before grabbing his collar with one hand and slamming a punch across his face with the other.

Sam stumbled from the force of the blow and fell backwards onto the floor, putting a hand to his bleeding mouth.

"If you're going then get out of here now!" John screamed.

"I'm not leaving without seeing Dean." Sam stated.

"Do you really think your brother will want to see you?" John scoffed.

Hearing the sound of footsteps, Sam and John both turned to see Dean stood in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in the sight of Sam lying on the floor bleeding.

John turned back to Sam. "If you walk out of that door, don't ever bother coming back." He stated before walking off.

And Sam had. Dean along with him.

Sam had snaked the keys to the Impala, before driving off to South Dakota. Dropping Dean off there, he explained to Bobby that the next week probably wasn't going to be a good one for their Dad. Explaining that he knew John was probably going to drink himself near to Oblivion. Sam had always been the ones to take their Father's drunken blows, and he feared with him not being there, Dean might be his next target. Sam knew that John would never have a motive to hit Dean. Dean was John's golden child and always had been. Which was good because it meant that Sam was less worried about the abuse. It was just drunk John he was worried about.

Bobby had promised to look after the kid, before he began fussing over Sam's split lip which he immediately knew had been John's doing.

"The next time I see that man I'm gonna' fill him fulla' buckshot, raising a hand to his boy like that! I knew I shoulda' gotten you kids outta' there. Why didn't you let me, Sam? I mean the man has been using you as a punching bag his entire life."

"Dean and I are all he has. I doubt he'd stick around long if we'd left." Sam sighed. "And I couldn't do that to Dean. I mean, he worships the guy. Losing him would destroy him."

"So Dean doesn't know about the abuse?" Bobby asked.

Sam shook his head. "He saw Dad punch me last night, but I told him that it was my fault for riling him up."

"Damn it, Sam...you were just a kid when it all started for god's sake!" Bobby stated sympathetically. "No kid should have to go through that, trust me I've been there myself. I know what it's like, which is why I would never want that to happen to you boys, and I let it!"

"It's not your fault Bobby." Sam reassured.

"The hell it isn't. I should have done something about it years ago."

"I didn't want you to." Sam responded. "It was my choice, Bobby, and you respected it and for that I'm grateful. But you can do something for me."

"Name it, kid."

"Don't let Dad kill him." Sam stated. "Please, if you know that the hunt's too dangerous, say Dean can stay here. Friggin' drag him over here if you have to, just don't let him get killed...please..."

Bobby took in the oldest Winchester's expression. The face of a boy who had just been disowned by his father, having been used as a punch bag by him for years, taking it all so that the family would stay together and so his brother wouldn't have to. He saw the unshed tears threatening pained eyes. John had clearly gone all out last night by the looks of how broken Sam looked.

"Are you sure you're gonna' be okay, kid?" Bobby asked softly.

Sam smiled. "I'll be fine, Bobby."

Bobby smiled too.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Reaching a hand into his pocket, he pulled out the keys to the Impala before placing them down on the table. "Give these back to Dad would you?"

Bobby nodded. "Sure."

Getting up from the table, Sam walked towards the living room but stopped halfway, turning back to Bobby. "Oh and she needs gas." He smirked before crossing into the living room where Dean was sat on the couch. Sitting down next to him, he turned to his brother. "Dean..." He began.

"Please don't leave me." Dean cut him off in a weak, saddened tone.

"Dean..." He tried again.

"You know what, screw you! If you want to leave us then fine." Dean crossed his arms.

"You don't mean that." Sam knew his little brother, and he especially knew what Dean does when he's scared. "You're scared, and it's okay to be scared because everything's changing and you might not want it to." He reached out and took his little brother's hands in his, squeezing them gently in reassurance. "You just gotta' be brave. I'm not leaving you forever, I'm just going to college. I mean, hell, I'm sure Bobby would drive you over if you wanted to come visit...right Bobby?"

Bobby nodded. "This is an amazing opportunity for your brother, Dean...and trust me he deserves it. Like he said, he'll only be in California, it's not like he's moving to the other side of the planet."

Dean sighed. "I'll miss you."

Sam felt like an awful older brother. "I know." He pulled his little brother closer , wrapping his arms around him. "I'll miss you too."

The months passed at Stanford, and Sam hadn't heard from his brother once. He regularly rang Bobby to make sure that the kid was alright, but he couldn't hide the fact that he was upset by the fact that Dean hadn't rang.

Months became years and soon Sam reached his fourth year. He'd gotten a girlfriend, an almost perfect score ok his LSAT's and everything was looking bright. Then he heard someone in the apartment him and Jess shared one night.

Finding your little brother in your living room at three o clock in the morning was definitely a surprise for him, especially after his estrangement from his family for four years. He hadn't heard Dean's voice in four years either, so the now deeper, gruffer tone was definitely a shock. And Dean himself was different. God had puberty hit him in the years they'd been apart. The boy he'd left had well and truly grown into a man. Sam noticed that Dean was also sporting their Father's brown leather jacket now, one that he'd hardly ever seen off his Dad's back throughout his childhood. And now Dean appeared to have ownership of it.

Dean had explained about Dad being missing and how he needed his help to find him. Jess had walked in at this point and then they had moved their conversation outside where Sam caught a glimpse of something else that Dean had obviously gained ownership of. Sam noticed the familiar vehicle parked up by the curb. It's shining black body reflected the bright yellows of the street lights that lined the path.

"Dad gave you the Impala?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, for my eighteenth." Dean answered.

The car had always been his. It had never really been formally given to him, but in the years before going to Stanford, Sam had found himself in the Impala more frequently whether it be through running errands for their Dad, driving Dean to school, racing back to motels or to hospitals after hunts that have gone wrong with Dean or their father passed out in either the passenger seat or across the back bench, bleeding out on the upholstery.

"So are you gonna' help me or not?" Dean asked.

"Would you even take no for an answer?" Sam replied. "I mean, I haven't heard from you in four years, Dean. No phone calls, no visits."

"I didn't think you'd care." Dean stated.

"You are my little brother, Dean. I know you think that going to Stanford was me abandoning you, but it wasn't. You are the one who didn't pick up the phone and call me, and didn't pick up the phone when I called you."

"I was busy." He replied bluntly.

Sam sighed. "What happened to the little brother I left that night?"

"He grew up." Dean stated, no emotion in his tone. "Now you didn't answer my question, are you gonna' help me or not because we're losing daylight here."

Sam had reluctantly agreed to go with him, stating that he had to be back by Monday for his Law School interview. The research had led them to the story of Constance Welch, a local woman who committed suicide after her children drowned. Which is why they were currently stood on the bridge where she had taken the swan dive. Nothing had come from looking around, but Dean wasn't giving up that easily.

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while." Dean stated.

Sam sighed. "Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by..."

"Monday." Dean finished as he turned around. "Right. The interview. I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Dean questioned.

Sam stepped closer to his younger brother. "No, and she's not ever going to know."

"Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sam. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." Dean stated as he turned and began walking down the bridge.

Sam followed him. "And who's that?"

"You're one of us."

Sam quickened his pace so that he was in front of his brother. "No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life. I am done with hunting."

"You have a responsibility to—" Dean began.

"To Dad? And his crusade?" Sam paused. "I spent my whole childhood doing what Dad wanted me to do, so why is it so bad that I want to have some kind of normality in my life?"

Dean scoffed. "So what, you think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl. Make Mom proud of you because you've managed to get away from the rut that you call your family and are living some normal, apple pie life?"

Sam's expression flared in anger at the mention of their Mom, his temper rising.

"Cause' that's what this is about, isn't it? You trying to make Mom proud. You think that us hunting is a disgrace to her memory, so you're trying to honour it." Dean paused. "Mom's gone, Sam, and she's not coming back."

Sam's temper snapped as he grabbed his little brother by the collar and shoved him back against one of the metal supports of the bridge. "Don't talk about her like that." He stated in a stern voice after a long pause before releasing him.

And then everything had gone to shit after that. They had managed to get rid of Constance's spirit, and Dean had drove Sam back to Stanford. Then Sam found Jess on the ceiling.

"Jess!" Sam screamed as he looked up at her. "No!"

"Sam!" He heard a voice shout before strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him from the flames.

"No! No! Jess!" Sam screamed after her. "Jess!..."

Sat on the trunk of the Impala later, after he'd been checked by the paramedics, Sam's head was lowered as tears streamed down his cheeks. He saw his little brother walk over, hands in his pockets which he would always do when he was nervous or worried.

"Sam..."

Sam sniffled before looking up and catching his brother's sympathetic gaze.

"I'm _so_ sorry..." He apologised.

"It's not your fault, Dean." Sam stated softly.

"No, but I have been a dick." He added before sitting down next to his brother on the trunk. Dean paused. "Truth is, I didn't want to ruin it for you..." He scoffed humourlessly. "...and look what happened."

"Dean, you keeping in contact wouldn't have ruined it for me." Sam stated reassuringly. "And none of this was your fault. You showing up didn't trigger this, it was that yellow eyed son of a bitch..." His voice trailed off.

Dean took in how broken his older brother looked. It was so unnatural to see him so upset. Sam was always the strong one. "Sam..." He began softly. "We'll find him, and when we do, we'll put a bullet in that SOB for Jess and Mom." He paused. "Until then, how about we hit the road? Just you and me?"

Sam smiled slightly. "Yeah." He nodded. "I'd like that."

Dean smiled too. "Good." He stood up from the trunk and grabbed his keys out of his pocket. "Come on then, we've got work to do."


	7. All Hell Breaks Loose

Requested by **TheAngelofFate**

_Prompt: Can you write AU chapter about "All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1&2" where Dean dies and Sam makes the deal instead of Dean and then the Part 2 ending where your title for your story comes in? Please? :)_

* * *

Arriving at the old, abandoned town where Bobby reckoned they'd find their mysterious vision bell, Sam and Bobby got out of the Impala and began to walk down the empty streets into the town.

"Dean!" Sam shouted as he look around. The buildings which would have looked glorious in their hay day were now nothing more than rotting wood with decades old paint peeling from them. "Dean!"

Looking around, Sam spotted his brother in the distance causing a smile to appear. Briefly checking him over from a distance, Sam concluded that he looked relatively unscathed. "Dean."

"Sam." Dean shouted back.

Suddenly, some kid dressed in camouflage came running up behind Dean out of nowhere.

"Dean, look out!" Sam screamed.

And that's when everything began to crumble. Watching as the kid in camouflage stabbed a knife into his little brother's back, causing him to moan loudly in pain, Sam screamed before he took off sprinting towards him. "No!"

"Guhh!" Dean cried out as the kid dragged the knife down Dean's back causing him to fall to his knees.

The kid ran off. Bobby went in pursuit of him.

Throwing away his gun, Sam slid down beside him, gathering his little brother up in his arms as he gently pulled him against his chest for support. "Dean..." Sam's tone was soft but plagued with fear as he placed his hands on Dean's shoulders. "De..."

Dean collapsed further, so that Sam was the only thing keeping him vertical as he sagged and leant against his brother, eyes barely open as he struggled to hold onto consciousness.

"Woah, woah, woah, Dean. Dean. Hey." Catching him in his arms, Sam adjusted his grip so that his hand was resting on Dean's back. "De...Come here, come here. Let's look at you." Something warm and sticky was coating Sam's hand. Moving it away caused him to gasp in terror. "No, no, no...De..."

Dean was still silent as Sam shrugged him away gently so that he could take a better look at him. Sam could see just how much pain his little brother was in as his head sagged heavily against his chest, too weak to support it any longer. "Hey, look." Softly taking a hold of Dean's shirt collar to try and hold him upright, Sam fought back tears that were threatening to fall. "Look at me."

Dean's head lolled about as Sam grabbed hold of his collar. He could see that his little brother's eyes were still open and were trying to find her, but just didn't have enough strength to hold the gaze for long enough.

"Look at me. It's not even that bad. It's not even that bad, alright?" Sam comforted. "De?" he called softly, becoming evermore desperate and hysterical as the seconds went on. "Dean!" he shouted. "Hey. Listen to me, we're gonna patch you up okay. You're gonna be as good as new." Sam nodded weakly, tears running down his cheeks. "Huh."

As Dean's head lolled once again, Sam struggled to watch as it did, knowing that his little brother literally slipped away in his arms. he felt sick just at the thought.

"I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna take care of you. I gotcha. That's my job, right? Look after my pain in the ass little brother." Sam's tone was getting weaker and weaker. "Dean?" Dean? Dean?" Please no! "De!" Sam shouted as he realised that Dean's eyes were now closed.

"No!" he cried out painfully, wrapping his arms tightly around his little brother. His head fell onto his shoulder. "No! No! No! No! No! No!" he begged. Tears were still streaming down his cheeks. "Oh god!" he buried his head into his shoulder.

"Dean!" Sam screamed, his voice echoing through the whole town.

* * *

Sat on an old, creaky wooden chair beside the bed. Sam looked across at his little brother lying dead upon it.

"You know, when we were little— and you couldn't been more than five— you just started asking questions." He paused. "Like how come we didn't have a mom? Why do we always have to move around? Where'd Dad go when he'd take off for days at a time? I remember I begged you, "Quit asking, De. Man, you don't want to know."" Sam paused once again, sniffling slightly. "I just wanted you to be a kid... Just for a little while longer. I always tried to protect you...Keep you safe...Dad didn't even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, you know? It's like I had one job...I had one job...And I screwed it up." His tone faltered through the pure emotion of grief and sadness. "I blew it. And for that, I'm sorry." Sam wiped away tears with the back of his hand. "I guess that's what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. And now I guess I'm just supposed to let you down, too. How can I? How am I supposed to live with that?" Sam whispered, crying now. "What am I supposed to do?...De..." His little brother's name was barely even audible. "God...What am I supposed to do?" He inhaled sharply. "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!" Sam yelled, the chair rocking on it's legs as he did so.

* * *

Walking towards the Impala, Dean was following behind him at a slower pace.

Sam opened the door.

"You know, when Jake saw me... it was like he saw a ghost." Dean began.

Sam stopped and closed the door before walking over to stand next to his little brother.

Dean scoffed. "I mean, hell, you heard him, Sam. He said he killed me."

"Glad he was wrong." Sam responded.

"I don't think he was, Sam." Dean paused and looked at his older brother. "What happened? After I was stabbed?"

"I already told you." Sam answered.

"Not everything." Dean pushed.

"Dean, we just killed the demon. Can we celebrate for a minute?" Sam asked, trying to avoid the subject anyway possible.

"Did I die?" Dean finally asked.

"Oh, come on."

"Did you sell your soul for me, like Dad did for you?"

"Oh, come on! No!" Sam lied.

Dean continued to look at him. "Tell me the truth."

Sam sniffled.

"Sam, tell me the truth."

"Dean..." Sam chuckled sadly.

"How long do you get?" Dean asked, voice breaking as he did so.

"One year." Sam answered.

Dean nodded, tears in his eyes.

"I got one year."

"You shouldn't've done that. How could you do that?" Dean asked.

"Don't get mad at me. Don't you do that. I had to. I had to look out for you. That's my job." Sam answered.

"And what do you think my job is?" Dean retorted.

"What?" Sam furrowed an eyebrow.

"You've saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you out of this. Guess I gotta save your ass for a change."

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"Well... Yellow-Eyed Demon might be dead. But a lot more got through that gate." Ellen stated as she walked over to them.

"How many you think?" Sam asked.

"Hundred. Maybe two hundred. It's an army. He's unleashed an army." Dean added.

"Hope to hell you boys are ready. 'Cause the war has just begun." Bobby stated.

"Well, then..." Sam smiled at his little brother before walking round to the trunk of the Impala and opened it. He threw the Colt inside. "...we got work to do." Sam slammed the trunk closed.


End file.
